


Breathe In, Breathe Out

by soft_princess



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Giles/Xander Octoberfest Challenge, M/M, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-28
Updated: 2007-10-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_princess/pseuds/soft_princess
Summary: Just hearing Giles' voice was enough to make him feel like a bastard all over again.
Relationships: Rupert Giles/Xander Harris
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

The message on the answering machine said: "There is a stack of mail for you on the table here. Let me know where to send it." No name or phone number, but it wasn't like Xander needed them. Just hearing Giles' voice was enough to make him feel like a bastard all over again.

He always let the machine pick up these days.

Xander could have told Willow to pick up the mail, or asked Andrew to do it. He hadn't. Willow would give him that _look_ again that meant she thought he was making the stupidest mistake of his life, and Andrew-- well it was better not to think about it. Xander just wasn't interested.

Nothing could explain what he was doing here though. Xander stood on the sidewalk, looking at the small house he used to share with Giles -- for a whole year before he'd managed to fuck it up -- with one hand on the fence -- which he'd built himself and God, he really shouldn't be remembering what Giles had done to thank him for that -- and the other deep in his pant pocket.

It shouldn't be so hard. He just had to walk up to the doorway and knock. He was here to pick up the mail after all. Then he could go back to the motel room, and wallow in his stupidity. There should be a couple of beers left, and maybe some vodka too, from the bottle he'd bought yesterday. 

It was the thought of having to knock that hurt the most. God, he couldn't do this.

With a sigh, he turned away and walked down the street back to his car. If he called Willow, he wouldn't have to face her, and she'd do this for him. He knew she would.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the stupidest things, always the stupidest things. A phone call from the optometrist's office to let him know that his glasses were ready to be picked up, and Xander was down again, just like that.

It was one of the last things they'd done together, before Xander _had_ to be an asshole. Giles had noticed how Xander had started to squint harder and harder when he was trying to read, and he'd hauled him to the nearest optometrist for an exam. The diagnosis had been eye strain due to being able to use only one and trying to compensate too hard. Xander had gotten out of there with a shiny prescription for a pair of glasses; which had seemed completely ridiculous to him, since half of it he wouldn't be using, but when the doctor had suggested a monocle, Xander had immediately vetoed it. Because there was ridiculous like having to wear an eyepatch under a pair of glasses, and then there was just _too ridiculous for words_.

Giles had helped him pick out the frame, and they'd had _fun_.

Then four nights later, Giles had stayed at work late, again, for the third night in a row, and Xander had gone out on his own, again. Except, this time, he hadn't said no when the guy sitting next to him had offered him a drink. He'd been pissed off and already well on his way to drunk, and the guy had been both a) young, younger than Xander by a couple years, even, and b) interested. 

Hindsight, as they said, was always twenty-twenty. Xander's only eye might be screwed up, but he still had near perfect hindsight.

He slammed a note on the mini-fridge in the corner that said "pick up glasses whenever," and grabbed another beer.


	3. Chapter 3

It turned out that Willow _wouldn't_ do it for him, and when Giles called for the second time in less than a week, leaving a message about mail that was pilling up and how something in there might be important, Xander had to do _something_.

He didn't stop at the fence. He walked straight into the yard, up the couple of oh so familiar steps, and knocked on the door without taking a second breath. Then the door opened, and Giles was there. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, and dark circles under his eyes.

God, Xander was _such_ a bastard. 

He took a deep breath, and reminded himself of why he was here; that it was _not_ so that he could say "I'm sorry." "I'm here to pick up the mail," he said, and he really hoped his voice was as steady as he needed it to be.

Giles nodded, turned around, leaving the door open, and walked away.

Xander knew he should just wait right where he was, but he had one foot inside the door before he even realized he was moving, and by then it was too late. He put the second foot in and closed the door. He noticed the stack of mail on the table next to the coat hanger and frowned.

When Giles came back, it wasn't with more mail, but with a second glass of scotch in his other hand. He gave it to Xander, and went back into the living room. Xander was obviously not thinking clearly, because he sipped at his drink, and then followed Giles.

The first thing he noticed wasn't the books scattered on the coffee table, or the look of utter desolation that the place had. It was the fire burning in the fireplace.


	4. Chapter 4

"If you say you're sorry, I will throw you out." Giles' tone was _scary_. It was the kind of tone he used on demons or bad guys, when he was more than pissed off.

Xander gulped and stared into the fire.

"You do know you did nothing wrong, yes?" Giles whispered finally, and the words made Xander jump.

Giles had obviously _not_ gotten the memo.

"You were angry and pissed -- by which I mean drunk."

"Did you ask me to come here just so you could corner me? Is that it?" Xander thought anger was probably the best way to answer this, because there was no way they were having this conversation. "I'll just pick up my mail, and go." He turned away.

"Will you let me get a bloody word in?" Raising his voice, although not quite yelling yet, Giles stood and blocked Xander's only exit by standing in front of the doorway with his arms crossed. "I have had enough of this, Xander, you're acting like a child."

"A child? You think I'm being childish?"

"Yes, I do," Giles said firmly. "I think you're trying to fit too much guilt where it has no reason to be. You did nothing wrong." This time, he pressed every word, as if trying to make sure Xander got the point.

Which he really didn't. "I almost slept with another guy! In _our_ bed, Giles, how is that _not_ wrong?"

Giles put both hands on Xander's shoulders, gripping hard enough that Xander winced. "The important thing being that you _didn't_ do it." 

That wasn't the _point_. That had never been the point. The point was that he'd _wanted_ to. He'd let the guy buy him that drink, and he'd flirted back; he'd liked the attention. When the guy had gotten up, Xander had followed. There'd even been some making out outside the club, next to Xander's car, before the guy had said "let's go to your place" and Xander had been two seconds away from whimpering "yes." Then he'd freaked out.

"Giles--"

Giles shook his head, and cupped Xander's jaw, his fingers strangely gentle on Xander's rough skin. "You don't want to cheat on me, Xander, you never did." 

Xander closed his eye, body shaking as he tried not to crack, not to show Giles how much this was getting to him. "I _always_ fuck things up, Giles. One day, I'll--" 

"Don't," Giles interrupted him. "This is as much your fault as it is mine, and I should not have put my work before you."

"Your job's important--"

"That does not excuse me, Xander, because you are more important to me than my work will ever be."


	5. Chapter 5

Xander wanted to believe that, he did. But there'd been too many evenings spent alone, too many phone calls in the middle of the night, too many interrupted dinners. Sure, Xander understood what the job meant, and how important it was that the Council be rebuilt and _not_ like it used to be, but there were hundreds of slayers now, and maybe they were short on watchers, but that didn't mean Giles had to do _everything_.

"Please," Giles said softly. He pulled Xander closer until their chests were pressed together. "Let's forget this month happened, and let me show you that I mean it." 

"I don't _get you_ ," Xander groaned. "I fuck up, and you're the one apologizing." 

"Because you _didn't_ "fuck up." I'm the one who let myself be distracted from you. I'm the one who took on so much work that I never realized how lonely you were." Giles leaned his forehead against Xander's, his breath tickling Xander's skin. 

Xander put both hands on Giles' biceps and closed his eye; he _knew_ Giles was right, but putting all the blame on his shoulders seemed wrong, and Xander had a whole month of feeling like a bastard on top of that, and he was just so _confused_.

"We started this relationship knowing full well that it wouldn't be easy, and while we both have faults, I'm still the one who let you down, Xander, not the other way around." God, Giles sounded so _broken_ , so tired and scared, and--

Xander realized that he wasn't leaving again; he couldn't. Giles wanted to work things out, and Xander hadn't even thought that they _could_ before, but-- it was worth trying. He opened his eye and looked at Giles, before he leaned forward again, and closed the short distance between their lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Giles responded eagerly to the kiss, hands taking hold of neck and arm, holding Xander to him.

God, Xander had missed this, missed Giles' hands on his body, Giles' mouth against his, the way they fit _just right_ against each other like this. "Giles," he murmured, when they pulled apart. "I'm so sorry, I was an idiot."

"Yes, you were," Giles said. "And so was I, but this can still work out, we just need to try."

Xander kissed him again. "Okay. Do over?"

"Do over," Giles agreed.

Xander bit his lip but as much as he tried, he couldn't contain the smile that spread on his lips. "This is the part where we get to the make-up sex, right?" 

Giles laughed and pulled Xander into a hug, arms tightening around him. "I believe that can be arranged. In fact," he added. "I may have something that could interest you in that department."

"The make-up sex department? You've been planning this?" Xander laughed against Giles' shoulder.

"Not as such, no, but I did make a purchase just a few days before--" he stopped, and pulled away. "Let me find it."

Giles left the room, and Xander sat down on the couch, wringing his hands together between his knees. It was hard to believe that Giles was giving him another chance like this, so easily. Xander hadn't even thought there was any possibility of this happening at all. He'd just expected Giles to look hurt and maybe even pissed off, but not this. 

"What? Still dressed?"

Startled, Xander looked up and gasped when he saw Giles in the doorway, naked and holding a box in his hand. "I, uh-- I should do that."

Giles laughed, though it sounded tentative, and sat down next to Xander. "Let me help." 

"What's in the box?" Xander asked, when Giles put it down on the coffee table.

"You'll find out in just a minute," Giles whispered. "Now, let's get this off you." He reached for Xander's shirt and slid his hands underneath it. 

Xander let him, let Giles pull the shirt over his head, then reach for Xander's belt. Giles made him stand to finish undressing him, until the pants, underwear and socks were discarded to the side. The feel of Giles' fingers on his skin was having the usual effect and by the time Giles was done, Xander was hard as a rock. The whole thing was so familiar, so completely unexpected, and Xander had to remind himself to breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

"Come here," Giles said, pulling Xander down again. Xander's head was spinning just a little, and he felt dazed when he sat back on the sofa, and watched Giles kneel between his legs and bent down to kiss him. Giles breathed softly: "Just let me take care of you." He pushed Xander's legs up slowly, caressing the underside of Xander's thighs.

With a short whimpering sound, Xander nodded, and held on to his knees. "What--?"

"Shhh, don't worry. Close your eye."

God, how could he have ever thought that he'd be able to give this up? To _fuck_ this up? Xander did as he was told, eye closing and fingers digging into his flesh. He heard the top come off the lube, then Giles fumbling with what Xander assumed had to be the box, and then he felt something cold and hard at his entrance. "Giles?"

"You'll like this, I promise, just relax, love," Giles said a little breathless.

Xander took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, just as Giles was pushing, sliding whatever-it-was further in until his fingertips were against Xander's skin, making him shiver. "Dildo?" It felt like one, slim and hard, and quickly warming up.

"Do you like it?" Giles' tone was slightly teasing and he pulled the dildo out inch by inch before thrusting it in again, and again, harder with each stroke.

"God," Xander gasped, arching his back and pushing down. "Yes, it feels good."

He felt Giles' weight as he bent down over Xander, and murmured into his ear: "I'm just getting you ready. Then I'll bugger you until you come without so much as my hand on you."

"Fuck, Giles," Xander groaned. "Please, can I look?"

Giles pressed his lips against the side of Xander's neck and bit down softly, teeth worrying the skin while his hand kept moving the dildo in and out, in and out, fast and deep. "Yes."

The first thing Xander saw was Giles straightening up just enough that Xander could look down and watch his hand work. "God." It was hot, it shouldn't be, but it was, and Xander licked his lips as he watched. "God," he repeated, "feels so -- God -- so good. Want you so much, Giles."

"Then I suppose I should get on with it then?" Giles slowly pulled the dildo out, and put it on the coffee table behind him. Xander watched him slick himself, and then shift until his cock was pushing into Xander. And he stopped.

"God, Giles, please," Xander murmured hoarsely.

"Rupert," Giles said, suddenly just a little more serious than Xander thought he should have been able to manage at this point. "I did not spend months asking you to call me by my name for it to go to waste."

Oh. Okay, yes, Xander could do that. "Rupert, please," he said, this time meeting Giles' eyes. He felt that same thrill again that he'd felt the first time they'd fucked and Xander had called him that, and Giles had fucked him so hard Xander hadn't been able to sit down properly for days. "Fuck me, Rupert."

Giles braced his hands over Xander's on his thighs, and thrust in until he was buried all the way, thick and hot, and Xander threw his head back to moan. "So bloody tight, Xander."

Xander was definitely an idiot and an asshole, but Giles was apparently very ready to forgive him for that, and Xander was so glad and relieved and _full_ right now, that if Giles tried to make him believe he hadn't really fucked this up, hadn't even been close to fucking it up, Xander would in a heartbeat. "God, please, harder."

Giles complied, pulling out and in again, with hard and fast strokes. He reached between their bodies and wrapped a hand around Xander's erection. It didn't last very long after that. Just a few more thrust and Xander was arching up and gasping, heat pooling down between his legs, and he was coming hard and all over his stomach.

Giles cried out, fingers digging into Xander's thighs, and then collapsed on top of him. Breathing hard, he kissed Xander's jaw, and then his cheek, soft, swift kisses until he reached Xander's mouth and kissed him hard. They were both shaking, and desperate, and Xander clutched at Giles, and held him until they could both breathe again.

"Don't ever leave me again," Giles whispered. 

Xander nodded against his shoulder, and whimpered. "I promise, God, Rupert, I'm so sorry."

"I know." Giles kissed Xander's neck, and then his lips again. He pulled back and looked into Xander's eye. "I know, and so am I; and we'll make this work."

"Yeah," Xander replied. "We will." 

It was a long time before they stood up and made their way to the bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Giles tugged the covers over both of them, and spooned up behind Xander, an arm snaking around Xander's middle. "I've missed having you here," he whispered with a sigh.

Xander smiled and mumbled: "It's a good bed." Then he remembered something. "Oh, uh, I have to pick up my glasses," he whispered, knowing he was going to be falling asleep any second now.

Giles' chuckle sounded like it was from miles away. "We'll go in the morning."

The last thing Xander felt before he fell asleep, was Giles' mouth pressing a kiss on his jaw. There'd be good dreams tonight.


End file.
